From Me To You
by ennusi
Summary: A forgotten timeline. In Age 767 Cell claims victory over Earth's warriors and the remnants of humanity escape underground to survive. After a decade of his dominion, mankind prepares its last counterattack for their freedom. AU fic, Xenoverse-based, OC-centric.
1. The Signpost Reads 'No Flower'

A choked gasp escapes my throat as I jolt awake, eyes wide and darting over the canopy of leaves above. I struggle to catch my breath, taking in my surroundings. Through the leaves is a bright blue sky with not a cloud in sight. Beneath me, the grass is soft and the air carries the faint scent of damp earth. But I know better than to trust everything is serene. Instead, I hold my breath and strain my ears to whatever sounds are around me.

Birds chirping, the rustle of animals rummaging in the foliage, the area still teeming with wildlife. I allow myself a sigh of relief.

I push myself off the ground, rubbing the bits of sleep still clinging to my eyes. A quick rest turned into a nap and now morning had become afternoon. I need to get moving again if I want to reach my destination before nightfall. My supply bag lies next to me and I check it to make sure everything's still inside. With everything accounted for, I pull my bag over my shoulders and continue my journey. Past this small stretch of woodlands is open and exposed land and the thought of losing cover makes dread settle in the pit of my stomach.

While I enjoy my rare excursions above ground, leaving the safety of the underground shelter leaves me anxious. There's no certainty to what can happen out here in this treacherous environment. But as long as I keep listening for the wildlife, I'll be fine. As long as it's still there, I know I'm safe.

Because their absence heralds the arrival of the devil.

Ten years ago, a monster emerged from nowhere and brought devastation and terror to the world. A group of heroes —including our world champion—came together to defend the planet in the monster's Games. I was only six years old, watching the fight unfold on television just like the rest of the world. The last thing I remember before the feed cut off was a child stepping up to fight. Evidently, he didn't make it.

Mankind dissolved into chaos in the wake of the creature's victory. In the days that followed that crucial battle, the devil annihilated anything in his path. Many tried to escape the planet, but he destroyed all aircrafts and caged us on this doomed Earth. The remains of civilization took refuge underground and have lived there since. There's still a few people living above ground, but they know the dangers that come with it. It's only a matter of time before the devil's mercy runs out.

When I reach the end of the woods, I take a moment to prepare myself. From here on out there'll be no more cover. I'll be an easy target should the devil decide to show himself. I reach in my backpack for an apple and a few nuts to snack on and some water. Even though it's only been two days, my stomach yearns for something richer like meats or vegetables. I could always hunt or fish, but I don't want to attract any more attention to myself by trying to cook, especially in the daytime. Some of my hair has stuck to my face from the heat and I pull it all into a ponytail before stepping out of the woods.

The village I'm heading to is only a few miles away from the woods and my chance to rest before I head further west. Rumor has it that the community under West City is working on something to put an end to our nightmare. Something that could help in our efforts to defeat the devil. No one knows for sure what it is, or if it's even true, but I know I need to find out for myself. Because if there's anything West City can offer us, it's hope.

A dry breeze cuts through the lands and I shield my face from the dust. Even if the rumors turn out to be false, at least I can settle down in the community and the trip won't be a total loss. There's nothing left for me back in the Satan City shelter for me to stay. My father had died in the chaos after the Games, leaving me all alone like many other children. I was fortunate enough to be found and raised along with the other orphans. But that was years ago and now it was time to move forward.

My eyes frequently scan my surroundings, always relieved to find nothing but empty land. There are more dangers than just the devil to worry about. Wild animals that could easily tear a person in two. Bandits that would be on the lookout for wanderers to loot and— if you were lucky— kill you. Out of necessity, I learned to defend myself, never went anywhere without some kind of weapon on my person. However, I would rather not tempt fate this time and hope for a peaceful journey.

The sun continues climbing overhead, the heat pressing down on me over time. My skin becomes damp and sticky under all my clothes and I curse myself for wearing all dark. I should've made an exception for this trip. But still, I tug my scarf over my head to keep the sun from my eyes.

Hours pass and soon I spot something in the distance. I squint my eyes and realize it's not a something, but a someone. It looks to be a small child. Relief floods through me and I pick up my pace to a jog. The closer I get, the more I start seeing the village rooftops peeking over the horizon. I raise my arms and start to call out, "Hey! Over here!"

As I get closer, I can make out that it's a girl, maybe no older than twelve. She looks over at me and freezes. There's something dark and bulky on her back that she reaches for and when she pulls it forward, I realize it's a gun.

"I'm from the Satan City shelter," I call out in assurance. It's easy to forget that the villages are much more cautious. While the shelters are well guarded, the villages have minimal protection, often left to the whims of chance. "I'm on my way to West City."

Curiosity gets the better of her and the girl lowers the rifle and starts coming over towards me. She's wearing a simple shirt and pants, dirty from playing out in the field. Her hair is dark and tangled, falling down to her shoulders and the same brown as her eyes. "My mom says it's dangerous to walk out in the open," she says, squinting up at me. "How'd you make it all the way here?"

"I guess I was just lucky," I shrug. "Is there a place in your village where I can rest for the night?"

"Maybe," she replies slinging the rifle back over her back and motions for me to follow her. "You can ask my mom, I guess. What's your name?"

"Tsubaki. Yours?"

"Macha," she replies with a little smile.

The village is a quaint little community of capsule houses clustered together in the middle of the scrublands. There's a wooden sign near the front with the village name —Ichijiku, Macha tells me—, but the characters have long faded in the sun. The last character is so faint that it makes the sign read 'No Flower' instead. Small gardens on raised beds dotted the areas around the houses and the occasional bleat of a goat in the distance.

There are people outside tending to their gardens or housework who only spare us a passing glance as we walk by. One woman hanging her laundry on a line gives us a friendly wave. The children stop and gawk, a few elbowing each other and whispering loudly. Macha ignores them all and leads me to a capsule home overflowing with potted plants. Tomatoes dominated the little vegetable garden in front.

"Mom! I found a wanderer," she yells. I linger by the door in case I'm not welcome.

"Wanderer?" A middle-aged woman with short dark hair walks in from another room and her eyes widen when she sees me. She yanks Macha by the arm and hisses, "Girl, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?"

"But she's friendly," Macha argues, pouting her lips. "And I had my gun anyways."

"I-I'm sorry for the disturbance," I pipe up, keeping my hands to my sides to not alarm the woman. "My name's Tsubaki and I come from the Satan City shelter. I'm on my way to West, but I need a place to rest for the night."

"Alone?" she asks. I nod.

She lets go of her daughter and looks over at me for a moment. Her face still holds a bit of youth, though lines have set in and I wonder if it's age or stress. She's tall and thin, wearing coveralls and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. When it seems she's finally deemed me not to be a threat, she speaks. "You're lucky you made it here alive. What in the hell possessed you to travel all the way here? And all alone no less."

There aren't many people willing to risk themselves by living aboveground and much less travel alone. Many called me a fool for even thinking of leaving the shelter. But growing up underground wasn't easy. Not when the open skies made me crave freedom again.

"Hope," I reply.

Her gaze softens at my words and the sight makes my chest feel tight. I don't want to be pitied. Pity belongs to the abandoned children in the colonies or the elderly people left to die when resources are scarce. Not me. But I say nothing as she—who introduces herself as Sen — agrees to let me spend the night in their living room. I try to bargain to earn my keep by helping out with chores or anything else, but she won't have it. Instead, she sends me off to relax before it's time to eat.

I leave my pack, jacket, and scarf in the house and follow Macha outside to refill my thermoses at least. The kids don't stop this time, but still stare when we pass through the village.

"You guys don't get many travelers do you?" I ask.

Macha shakes her head. "We have some traders that come by from the other villages every once in a while. And the bandits."

I realize that I haven't seen any form of protection from the village since I arrived. No barbed fences or lookouts or even dogs. "How do you guys defend yourselves?"

"A lot of the grown-ups own guns," Macha replies. Then she turns to me with a sly grin on her face. "I'm a great shot. One time, we were exploring far from here and ran into some bandits. One of them tried to run off with one of the little girls. I shot him right in the head." She taps the back of her head for emphasis.

I can't help but return her smirk. Macha reminds me a lot of myself in a way and not just because of the dark hair. It's the self-reliance. The detached way in which she has accepted this new way of life. I don't blame her for it. There's no place for weakness in this cruel world, not even for children.

The bleating stops me in my tracks, sounding a lot closer than before. I turn to see an older woman milking one of the does and my mouth waters. Macha must have seen me stare because she says, "Do you want some? She's happy to share if you ask."

"I don't have anything to trade."

Macha rolls her eyes and props herself onto the woman's fence. "Mugi-san!" The older woman turned around and smiled at her. "Can we get some milk? My friend here traveled a long way and she's pretty thirsty."

Before I can object, the woman nods enthusiastically and waves us off while she finishes milking. I follow Macha to the front of the Mugi-san's house while we wait. When she finishes, Mugi-san joins us outside carrying a tray with two glasses of milk and some cheese over bread. She sits on the steps while Macha and I sit on the ground. The milk is smooth and sweet and I drink it almost instantly. I try to pace myself more with the cheese, feeling my stomach grumble for more food.

Mugi-san starts making hand gestures towards me and I frown in confusion.

"She wants to know where you're from," Macha explains, licking some cheese off her lip. "Mugi-san got hurt real bad so now she can't talk."

The old woman smiles at me, waiting. I take another sip from my glass before speaking. "I'm from Satan City heading to West."

"She wants to know why," Macha translates, looking at Mugi-san as she gestures. "Um…I think she's saying it's dangerous?" Mugi-san nods, assuring the girl she's right.

"Just looking for a change of scenery," I shrug, dropping my gaze. My fingers find a blade of grass and occupy themselves in tugging it out. The look of pity Sen gave me after I told her was enough to keep me from repeating myself.

"She told my mom she's looking for hope," Macha blurts out and I scowl at her, which she promptly ignores.

Mugi-san only smiles in understanding and motions again. Macha furrows her brows in concentration. "She's saying that hope is…uh…"

The old woman reaches out and taps my chest with her fingers. And I understand her. Hope is in the heart. It sounds like something out of a self-help book. But with her warm smile and with the taste of sweet milk still on my tongue, I know she only means the best. I thank her for the treat and receive a warm hug from her before we're off again, leaving Mugi-san to finish her chores.

Macha leads me to a dug well outside of the village, with stone lining the sides. The sun is just beginning to lower when we arrive, scattering orange against the blue sky. She helps me fill up the thermoses while I pull up the water bucket. With her help, it doesn't take us long to finish.

"That should do it," Macha says, tightening the last lid.

"Thanks. We should start heading back, it's not safe being out so late," I say, looking around. Even with Macha's gun and my knives, I don't particularly like the idea of inviting trouble. "Besides, your mom might start to get worried."

Macha nods and picks up the bottles. "Yeah, it's getting creepy anyways. Never heard it be so quiet outside."

Her words brought me to a halt. I hold my breath and listen. Sure enough, the scrublands are deathly silent. So quiet, I can hear my own heartbeat hammering in my ears. No insects buzzing, no crickets chirping around us. I whip back towards the village, searching.

 _No, no, no, this can't be happening_. I want to say it, but my words catch in my throat. There's a heaviness in my chest at the thought that our weapons will have no effect on the devil. Not my knives, not even Macha's gun—

A shriek in the distance startles us. I turn to Macha and she's watching the village, her face pale and wide-eyed. Before I can say anything, the bottles drop out of her hands and she's running.

"Mom! Momma!" she shrieks.

"Macha, no!" I reach for her, but my fingers only find her gun. It yanks her back, but she manages to slip out of it and runs towards Ichijiku. I hoist the gun over my shoulder and run after her.

But the girl's too fast and soon we're both nearing the village, the screams of the people growing louder. Macha slips between the houses, the familiarity of it giving her and advantage. Something snags my boot and sends me sprawling headfirst. For a moment, I'm tempted to stay here, hidden and safe, but the thought itself is humiliating. Instead, I keep running.

The people have clustered all in a group, some bowing and other staring up at the sky. Cries and moans of despair, even a few pleas for mercy fill the air. I reach Macha, who's silent and clutching her mother. Only then do I finally look up. My eyes snag on his shape in the sky and my body won't move. All I can do is stare because this _can't be real_. Sixteen years and I'd taken every precaution to avoid coming across his path. Remembered the protections I'd been taught, like not uttering his name. And yet here he was looming over us while we cowered in fear.

It's one thing to have seen him on TV, but something entirely different to be in his presence. To be so aware of my own powerlessness against the monster that made this earth a living hell. The monster that has humanity hiding in the darkness like cockroaches.

Every other obstacle I've faced seems so insignificant in comparison. For the first time in my life, I feel truly afraid.

* * *

 **A/N: This was inspired by a lot of things, but most notably the part in Xenoverse where Cell wins the Games. I thought it was an interesting storyline to work with. Rest assured, it'll be entirely different than story than By Virtue I Fall (which you should totally check out btw). Tsubaki and Natsu are entirely different characters.**

 **Just as an FYI though, this fic will get graphic at times. I don't intend to idealize any part of this world. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	2. Don't Sow Your Seeds Here

What finally snaps me out of my trance is the wailing of a small child. I look around and see a woman on her knees, holding her infant while pleading for mercy. She can't be more than a few years older than I am. And she's not the only one. A few others are throwing themselves on the floor in worship, begging Cell to spare them. I look back towards him and he's looking at the villagers with such disdain, it makes my skin crawl.

He doesn't intend to spare them. He never did.

My pulse quickens in my clenched fists. It's a cruel mockery of mankind for him to have any human features, when there was no humanity in him at all. For him to have the freedom to inhabit a world he can't even appreciate. All the pain and humiliation of caging us underground seethes in my veins until I feel my own rage will burn me alive. I don't stand a chance in fighting him, but I refuse to be intimidated.

No cowering, no pleading. Instead, I shove back all my fear and stand up straight, glaring at him. "Cell!" I call out and in that name is all the hatred I can muster for him. It takes a few seconds before those pink irises lazily turn my way, as if he couldn't be bothered to even look at me. "What the hell do you want?"

I can feel almost every villager's gaze converge on me, but I ignore them all, keeping my focus on the creature above. Cell's expression remains impassive as we stare each other down. Seconds trickle into minutes and then the corner of his mouth curves up. I take inhale sharply and grind my teeth around words I want to spit out at him.

"What I _want_ is not something neither you nor anyone else in this backwater town can provide," he replies. Every word articulated with such scorn, as if we were only ants under his boot. That's probably what he thinks of us.

"Then what are you doing here?" I demand. It seems like the entire world quieted down to hear my standoff. The silence rings in my ears and makes words tumble out of my mouth. "Why are you terrifying these people? They've done nothing to you."

"Yeah, we don't want you here, Cell!" one of the little boys yells. He snatches a rock off the ground, about the size of his palm and chucks it at the bio-android. The rock doesn't even make it halfway. But the action brings out the courage in the rest of the children, who start shouting various insults to him.

"You're not welcome here!" Macha shouts. Sen yanks her by the arm, trying to shush the girl, but Macha doesn't stop. "No, mom. If Tsubaki's not afraid of him then I'm not either!"

There's a ripple in the crowd. The villagers are muttering amongst themselves. One of the men straightens up. "She's right," he says and his voice cuts through the building commotion. "I'm sick of this. Always living in fear. My wife's about to go into labor any day now. They both deserve a better life than this."

"If these kids aren't afraid, then we shouldn't be either," another woman adds and there's a murmur of agreement. "We should fight for our village!"

The crowd erupts in cheers, their entire mood shifted from their earlier weakness. Their celebration is cut short, however, as a sudden invisible force knocks off our feet. An immense weight presses the others and me down to the ground. A spasm jolts through me and my entire body is stiff. Then I feel myself lifted against my will. My chest tightens at the sudden intrusion. As if it wasn't enough that Cell's very presence inspired fear, he had to remind us just how powerless we really were.

I rise up to him, my limbs hanging awkwardly in his telepathic hold. His gaze is still towards the villagers below me. They're panicking, desperately crying out in their helplessness.

"You caused this," he says, gesturing to the villagers below. They're still on the ground, trying in vain to resist the power keeping them down.

I didn't want this. Didn't expect the villagers to follow my lead in standing up to Cell. I know there was no use in trying to fight him because no one could. But I wanted to die with my pride intact at least. Would he drag out their deaths, torturing them until they begged for it, because of me?

I can't speak. Fear chokes back my words, but I won't give him the satisfaction. I will not cower in the face of death. The prolonged silence prompts him to finally look at me. A tremor courses through my body. There is no empathy in those eyes. Nothing but a deep emptiness that seems infinite. I want to look away, feeling as if the abyss will swallow me whole.

"You're not afraid of me," he states. Then his eyes narrow. "Or rather, you are, but also reckless."

"Does it feel good to bully those weaker than you?" I snap. "Does it make you feel _powerful_?"

Cell reaches out and grabs the back of my head. All my weight drops down and his claws dig into my scalp where he holds me up. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out. He twists my head around to look at the villagers bellow.

"I admire your spirit! Unfortunately, you lack the power to support it," he says. I can hear the cruel edge in his voice as he speaks. Cell extends a hand towards the people and it begins to glow. "This is the price you'll pay for your imprudence."

"No!" I shout, but there's nothing I can do to stop it.

The blast engulfs the villagers below and detonates in a blinding light. I shut my eyes from the scene as the shockwave crashes against me. If he weren't holding me in place, the explosion would surely blow me away.

When the dust settles, all that's left of Ichijiku is a smoking crater.

My breaths become heavy and frantic. _This can't be happening. This isn't_ real. I was there mere minutes ago, walking around the town with Macha. Drinking milk with a kind old woman who touched her fingers to my heart and told me to hope. I wanted this to be a nightmare. To wake up still under the canopy of trees, with the town still safe.

Cell jerks my head back so that our faces are only inches apart. "It would be much too simple to kill you now. Instead, I want you to live knowing that you caused their destruction."

He lets go and I plummet. My leg hits the ground first, the angle awkward and it sends a searing pain through it. My head is light, the world spinning before me, and I feel the sudden urge to vomit. Then everything fades to black.

* * *

It's still dark when I wake up. The sound of crickets and other bugs surround me in the cool air. I try to sit up and the movement reignites the pain in my leg. I grit my teeth, trying to smother my cries. I can't draw attention to myself while I'm so vulnerable. But the pain brings back everything that happened before I passed out.

Macha, the villagers, and Ichijiku.

I can still feel his hands on my head.

The same terror claws its way up my throat. A choked sob escapes my lips. Something finally breaks inside me and soon I'm crying loudly, my fingers digging into my hair. For a moment, I let all my fear, my pain, and my helplessness surface. My body trembles at the memory of being in his presence. At his _mercy_.

Then I snap my mouth shut and take deep breaths to subdue my emotions. _There's no place for weakness in this world_. Instead, I focus on my rage, letting it fuel my desire to see him dead. Now, more than ever, I want to finish my journey to West. To do whatever I can to help with whatever plan they have.

Even the slightest movement makes the pain flare up. The pain triggers my body temperature to rise to uncomfortable levels. Gritting my teeth, I force myself to move. Inch by inch, I position myself to look at my leg, removing the gun still strapped to my back. With trembling hands, I grab the knife from my waistband and tear open the fabric.

The sight makes my stomach lurch. My foot faces the wrong way, with a large bump where the bone is cracked. The skin around the area is a deep and violent purple.

I can't treat this. Not without adequate supplies. But my pack was destroyed along with the rest of the village. Aside from my knife and Macha's gun, I had nothing left. I would need a splint and to set the bone so it would heal properly. However, the thought of doing that makes me even sicker. What I need is medicine, a hospital with proper treatment. Stuff that isn't here in the middle of nowhere. But West is still far from away and at such a disadvantage, I don't think I'll make it.

Still, I have to try. Not just for me, but for the people of Ichijiku.

I make sure the gun has the safety on before slinging across my back. More deep breaths. With a pained grunt, I flip onto my stomach. One arm tries to keep my leg steady. It does nothing to dull the pain. Black dots my vision and for a moment, I fear I may pass out again. I focus on breathing through it. Several agonizing minutes later, when the pain is at least enough to bear, I drag myself forward.

Progress is excruciatingly slow. My skin is damp with sweat, making dirt and grass stick to every exposed part of it. Every movement, every breath even, sends more pain through my leg. My vision fades in an out and I want to throw up. But I can't stop now. Not with the villager's pleas still echoing in my ears and the memory of his words suffocating me. My hands tremble as they dig into the ground, dragging me forward inch by inch.

I will die here. With the deaths of everyone still weighing heavy against my heart.

I don't know how much time passes like this. Focused so intently on moving in an attempt to block out the pain. But after some time, I begin see something dark up ahead. My fingers finally brush against the rough surface of cold stone. Somehow, I've made it to the well. I fumble around until my hands close around my discarded thermoses. I laugh, half-relieved and half-delirious. With trembling and clumsy hands, I manage to undo the lid of one and bring the container to my lips. The water feels like a blessing, cool and delicious. I gulp it down greedily, not caring that most of it is dribbles down my chin and to the ground.

When the bottle is empty, I tuck it and the others close to me. My body is weak. I can't move forward anymore. I can't keep fighting the darkness creeping over my vision. My teeth chatter from the cold. I wish I could at least turn over to look at the stars, but I don't have any strength left. Instead, I lay with my face in the dirt and close my eyes.

I will lay here for days, weeks, and no one will know. Maybe the traders will happen to come by and see that Ichijiku is no more. Maybe they'll even come to the well. But by then infection will have set in my leg and it'll be too late.

I can't say I'm sad about the thought dying. Or even scared. I'm furious over the fact that it's because of Cell. I'm dying on _his_ terms. He wants me to suffer. Maybe he plans to come back and taunt me while I do.

A bullet through the mouth would be the perfect little rebellion. But I can't lift my arms. I can't even stay awake. Maybe when I awaken, I'll have the strength to do it. For now, I let myself drift into unconsciousness.

* * *

At some point, I can feel again. I'm still trembling and my skin feels hot. I'm wedged between something hard. Have I fallen down the well?

Stars fill my vision for one split second. There is something dark against the backdrop of the sky. Something close.

The pain from my leg becomes too much. I give in to the darkness once more.


End file.
